


Spin

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [72]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anger born of worry, Fainting, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Some things don’t change.Virgil sometimes being an idiot is definitely one of those things.





	Spin

**Author's Note:**

> For these prompts:
> 
> "Has Virgil ever actually gotten sick like that since meeting the boys? I can’t imagine they’d handle it well"
> 
> "Laoft… Virgil is unseelie, right? Winter? Has he had any close calls with fire/etc?"
> 
> "… That sounds very intriguing, would you mind perhaps writing out the first time each of them witnessed him overheating so much that even he can’t hide the symptoms anymore? Or perhaps his adopted friends?"
> 
> "Oh my I’d love to read about Virgil being Not Okay in the summer from the heat and still not saying anything to his boyfriends (or Greta?? Holy shit can you imagine her reaction) until he starts to sway or lose consciousness which causes some CONCERNS"
> 
> And many thanks to my beta [Vivi_Marius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivi_Marius/pseuds/Vivi_Marius)both for beta reading and commiserating with me and Virgil's #FaintingProblems

“Virgil. _Virgil!_”

“Hmm?” he started, blinking rapidly.

May gave him an odd look.

“Somethin’ ya wanna share with the class?”

“…No?” he said.

And there _definitely_ wasn’t. Virgil was long since accustomed to the discomfort of human houses in the wintertime – what was he going to do, _complain?_ He’d _seen_ frostbite in humans, and Seelie for that matter. May could keep her house as hot as an oven if she felt like it, as far as Virgil was concerned.

The issue, of course, being that Virgil was pretty sure he’d just spaced out completely, dizzy and slow from the heat of the fireplace, and he had no idea how long.

“Uh-huh,” said May, looking like she didn’t buy it in the slightest, “So is that a yes then?”

Virgil felt the eyes on him – his three partners were watching him, in various stages of confusion and suspicion, and May was staring him down, daring.

“Okay,” he said, without the faintest idea what he was agreeing to, because Virgil sometimes did stupid things just for the hell of it, apparently.

May kept staring.

“Are ya gonna c’mere then?” she said after a moment, gesturing back toward the kitchen.

Shit.

She must want him to carry something; he and Roman were her usual go-to’s for that, which would be fine literally any other time except _right now, _when Virgil kind of felt like his brain was turning to hot soup and leaking out of his ears.

“Okay,” he repeated.

“Babe, _are_ you okay?” said Roman quietly.

Virgil leaned down and gave him a quick peck – which hopefully Roman wouldn’t notice was definitely not an answer – and then stood to follow May into the kitchen.

“Catch him,” said May flatly.

_Catch who? _thought Virgil, and then the room tilted and spun like that infernal carnival ride and he was on the floor.

“Calm down,” May was saying. Who needed to calm down? She was talking again but the words slipped between his fingers.

“Oma?” he mumbled.

More than just May had been talking, though he hadn’t realized until they’d all fallen silent. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the black at the edges of his vision.

“Yeah, baby, what is it?”

“I think…”

His tongue felt heavy and ill-fitting in his mouth.

“I think I fell,” he said.

May snorted, and whoever had ahold of Virgil – Roman? - laughed a little wildly.

“Yeah, ya did, ya dumbass,” she said, and then something cold laid across his forehead and most of the dizziness evaporated near-instantly.

Blinking again, he tried to sit up and look around, and got a sharp flick to his earlobe in response.

“Knock it off. Stay still,”

“Virgil what _happened?_” Patton exclaimed, and when Virgil turned his head he and Logan were standing just out of arm’s reach. Patton was fretting his hands and Logan was sheet-white.

“It’s not a big deal,” said Virgil.

“Oh sure,” said May absently, “And next time it happens, and ya land in the fireplace? Or impale yerself on the garden gate?”

“Nana, please,” said Logan, his voice slightly hysterical.

May did at least look a little contrite. She sighed.

Reaching forward, she pressed her fingers to Virgil’s neck, and he must be _really_ out of it if he wasn’t even fast enough to react to a human reaching for his _throat._

May stared up at the clock on the wall, narrowing her eyes.

“Wouldn’t happen to know yer normal pulse off the top a’ yer head, would ya?” she said dryly.

“What? No,” said Virgil incredulously, “Why are you asking about my pulse?”

She gave him an odd look.

“Virgil,” she said, “What, exactly, do _you_ think just happened?”

Virgil felt his face flush slightly, waving his hand around.

“It’s… hot,” he said, “I got a little- y’know, melty. It happens sometimes,”

“_This_ is what you were talking about when you said ‘melting’?” said Roman, strangled.

“Yeah?” said Virgil, “That’s why the cold water helps. Usually I just jump in a pond or something,”

May pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Yer just about dumb and a half I swear t’god,” she muttered.

“Hey!”

“‘Melt,’” said May scathingly, “Did ya come up with that all on yer own, or did one of them Seelie healers tell ya that? Because I might have to go slap’em,”

“Okay, if I’m _not_ melting, then what happened? Since you seem to think you’re so _enlightened_,” said Virgil dryly.

May huffed.

“When ya stood up, yer heart rate got too high,” she said, gesturing at the clock, “Not too sure _how_ high, on account a’ you not bein’ _human_, but I’ll bet money, marbles or chalk that one-twenty _after_ I cooled ya off ain’t _standard_,”

“So yer blood pressure dropped and ya fainted,” she finished, shrugging, “Bein’ totally honest, there ain’t much ya can do about it, besides drinkin’ water and not standin’ up too fast,”

Logan had rushed toward the kitchen nearly as soon as she spoke, and Patton moved in to help Roman prop Virgil up against the couch. May was sitting on it, and placed another wet rag on the back of his neck.

“I feel fine now,” grumbled Virgil.

“Yeah, yer welcome,” said May, amused, “Don’t fuck it up by tryna stand again,”

Logan returned with a glass of ice water, passing it to Roman who held it out for Virgil.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stay here for now,” he said, “It isn’t that big of a deal,”

“Yeah, we hear you, tough guy,” laugh Roman, tucking some hair behind Virgil’s ear, “But you’re gonna have to deal – you passed out, we’re hovering,”

Patton nodded vehemently, reaching out and squeezing Virgil’s hand.

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, smiling softly, “Hover all you like,”

When they deemed him recovered enough to sit back on the couch, they set him right next to May. Logan went after another glass of water, Roman to get the firewood from the shed (which was apparently what May had been asking Virgil to do) and Patton took the bowl of now-lukewarm water and the rags to the bathroom to replace them.

May tapped Virgil on the shoulder, and he tilted his head toward her.

Only to freeze, because her expression was borderline _vicious._

“Do not do that again,” she said, her voice flat.

Virgil swallowed.

“Wasn’t exactly on purpose,”

“Ya know damn well what I mean. Ya get sick? Ya fuckin’ tell me,”

He looked away.

“Yeah, Oma,” he said quietly, “I’ll try,”

“Good,”

She nodded firmly, and the others returned, and Virgil resigned himself to the fretting for the rest of the evening.

—

_Virgil sputtered, coughing up some of the water that got in his nose and sitting bolt upright, limbs flailing._

“_What the _fuck_,” he spat._

_Greta was standing over him, an empty bowl in her hands and an enraged expression on her face._

“_What the HELL was that?_”_ she demanded, chest heaving._

“_What?” said Virgil._

“_You SWOONED you idiot, I thought you were DEAD!” she shrieked._

“_Oh,” said Virgil, “It’s the dead of summer, Greta; I’m a Winter. What were you expecting?”_

“_For the fucking Lord of the Forest to remain conscious, not faint in the middle of my FUCKING room!”_

_Something banged on the floor underneath them. The voice of Greta’s mother was garbled through the wood, but it was clearly irate – Virgil could just make out something about “quiet.”_

“_Someone’s in trouble,” said Virgil._

“_Shut_ _up_,_” Greta spat._

_Virgil gave her an odd look._

_She threw the wooden bowl down, sending it clattering across the floor, her jaw clenched and her face still a picture of rage._

“_Don’t do that again,” she hissed._

_Virgil’s mouth ticked up._

“_Were you worried?” he teased._

“_It isn’t FUNNY!”_

_Virgil reared back. Greta’s eyes were a little glassy, and she kicked the leg of her bed several times, her fists clenched so tightly the knuckles were white and Virgil half wondered if she wasn’t cutting her palms open._

_He stood cautiously, trying not to startle her. She crossed her arms, facing away._

“… _Sorry,” he said quietly._

_She didn’t turn._

“_Greta,” he said, “I really am. I shouldn’t have made fun,”_

“_Damn right you shouldn’t have,” she muttered darkly, and then she scrubbed at her face and Virgil’s heart clenched._

“_Don’t do it again,” she repeated, and this time her voice was thick and choking._

_Virgil barely opened his arms before Greta caved, turning and setting her forehead on his chest and wrapping her arms like a vice around his waist._

_Virgil set his chin on top of her head._

“_Yeah, Grettie,” he said quietly, “I’ll try,”_

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me over on [tumblr!](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com)


End file.
